


Lust Letter

by cl2y



Series: The Bastard and the Duke [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Blue Balls, Deepthroating, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Beta Read, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Pregnancy of a Minor Female Character, The Game, or is it just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 21:05:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6873202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl2y/pseuds/cl2y
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the almost disastrous events with Duke Prosper, Lord Jean-Esmeral is set to avoiding the man and his son, Lord Cyril. Though being invited to the same parties tends to make things difficult, to say the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lust Letter

The fêtes and parties the Orlesians threw were always extravagant. The crowd would ever be judging on absolutely everything, the game seemed only to thrive in these environments. Jean-Esmeral was a true lover of the game. He had been dealt a bad hand to begin with, his mother having been a travelling Antivan who returned to the estate doorstep heavily pregnant and claiming it was his father's child, which undoubtedly he was. The uncontrollable curly hair which ran in his family was unmistakable. Still, Jean played well.

The Coutiers were throwing this particular event. Nobody truly liked to visit them being close friends with the de Launcets, but their parties were brilliant at the worst of times, even if everybody had to dodge the dreaded daughters de Launcet. Jean had not originally been invited, his older brother Marc was intended to come though his wife had come into labour early. He was the replacement and obviously an insult meant for the family, for attempting to persuade Marc away from his wife.

He had spied a few men and women he could seduce, but had counted some out due to how fast the wine was flowing. He had been avoiding some in particular, especially after their most recent encounter, Duke Prosper and his son Lord Cyril. Jean had done his best to avoid the gaze of the younger man, hopefully Cyril would understand that he was not interested any more, and would stop undressing him with his eyes from across the room. Jean had told his youngest sister, Léontine, about all of this, and she had told him to leave them both well enough alone. Usually he heeds her advice, she is masterfully wise beyond her years, but the thought of Duke Prosper made him delightfully uncomfortable.

The night had worn on, a few drunken guests had mingled with him. Wandering hands running down the front of his doublet, with added murmurs of slurred seduction. Jean's reputation preceded him evidently. A small elvhen woman had been stood a few feet away, a small slip of paper in hand, while one man leaned on him stinking heavily of whiskey. Jean propped him up against the wall and the woman moved in, ushering the letter into his hands before leaving to serve more drinks. The parchment was rolled open and read quickly, all it bore was a destination and a time, _intriguing._

Jean had made his way to the appointed location, the fire having already been lit, he threw the letter into it. Watching it blacken and split into ash. He doubted this was some sort of elaborate assassination, the Coutiers would gain more credit for assassinating him in the open. Jean was, after all, hardly a warrior. He circled the room a few times, hoping it was not Babette. Honestly he had always preferred Fifi she was less-

"I see you got my letter, Monsieur." The voice rang out, the door opened and pressed shut ever so lightly. Jean whirled around, hands tensing as they folded behind his back.

"Duke Prosper." He bowed. _Shit._ Jean wasn't surprised, not truly. He should have expected it was the Duke who had sent the mysterious letter, he was hardly going to talk to him personally in front of all the guests, not with Jean's reputation.

"My son has been missing you, he denies it of course but he sees the estate as empty without you."

"I can hardly sit down to sup with him knowing I fucked his father in his own bed."

"You didn't 'fuck' me, I 'fucked' you." Prosper hummed. Jean scoffed at the man, _technicalities, horseshit, I can play at this too._

"On the contrary, Duke, I believe that it is not truly sex unless both partners climax."

"How petty."

"Truly you do not see it as such? You wife must have been very disappointed in the bedroom. Are you sure Lord Cyril is yours?" Jean smirked. He dusted off the ends of his doublet and made to leave, Prosper sidestepping to block the exit.

"Do not project your insecurities onto me, boy." Prosper laughed unfazed.

"If you could not make me orgasm then I doubt your wife ever did. How could she get pregnant so unsatisfied?" Jean spat. Prosper encroached upon him then, forcing Jean to step back until his knees hit the end of the bed. He reached up and pulled the silver mask from his face, Jean now maskless, thought the Duke meant to kiss him. But he merely threw the item away, letting it clatter across the floorboards and into the corner. Jean huffed, and moved to retrieve it, setting it back onto his nose and testing that it stood there against movement.

He turned to face the other man. Prosper had sat himself on the bed, brushed his hands across the sheets and widened the gap between his thighs. If this wasn't an explicit invitation Jean didn't know what was. Jean merely stood there, fingers drumming against his thighs, and a pout on his fuller lips. He glanced to the door, and back to Prosper, then back to the door, he could just leave. Prosper wouldn't bother him again surely. It wasn't as if the man could reach the exit before Jean, and he wouldn't chase the man down the halls just for sex. But Maker he _wanted_ to stay. Jean walked to stand between Prosper's spread legs, his hands loosely gripping his own hips.

"Take off your clothes." Prosper whispered, gloved hand slipping under Jean's doublet. He heaved as sigh as he pulled at the fastenings of his clothing, shrugging off his layers one by one accompanied by Prosper's wandering hands. He pulled his mask off last, letting it fall into the small heap of his clothing. "On your knees Monsieur." Prosper sighed leaning back and watching as the man descended. "Suces moi." He whispered, gently tipping Jean's head up.

Jean shuffled on his knees, pulling at the laces of Prosper's breeches and taking out his cock. He stroked it a few times, feeling the flesh harden and grow in his palms. He reached down for his own, taking his balls in hand and rolling his hips. He kissed the head of Prosper's cock, his lips heavy against the heated flesh. He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against the head, pushing the foreskin back and engulfing him. Jean glanced up at the Duke, seemingly stoic about the intimacy.

"If I bore you why invite me?" He hummed, pulling away and leaning his cheek against Prosper's flushed erection, pouting his lips. The Duke tutted, cupping Jean's jaw and digging his fingers into his cheeks to force him mouth open. Jean sneered and slapped the hands away, opening his mouth and sucking on Prosper's cock. He let his hand enclose around the inches he could not swallow, move them in tandem as he pulled back to suck at the head, and then swallowed him down once more. Prosper's hands threaded through his curling hair, resting neatly at the back of his scalp and gently massaging him there. Jean groaned at the gentleness of it, tugging his own cock a little faster.

"Such a good boy." He whispered, letting his nails curl into his scalp. Jean let out a laugh of _merci Monsieur_ around his cock. Prosper's grip tightened and forced Jean's head to move faster, letting his hips roll into the man's mouth. Jean grunted at the pace, smearing pre-come around the head of his own cock and speeding up his own thrusts. "Relax." Prosper whispered, holding the back of Jean's head and forcing his cock into the man's throat.

Jean gagged as it pressed further in, his hands grappling at Prosper's forearms. Jean felt his nose press against the material of Prosper's doublet, he swallowed and tried to force air down his throat as Prosper grunted above him, thighs twitching under expensive breeches. He let Jean slip from his grasp, the man pulling back and spluttering.

"Bastard," He coughed, "You could have asked." Jean sat back on his heels rubbing at his throat. Prosper hummed and nudged the other man with the toe of his boot, nodding to his flushed cock. Jean rolled his eyes and peppered kisses along the length, letting his tongue dance across the thick vein. Prosper let out a deep rumble, his belly igniting as Jean swallowed down his length, gag reflex suppressed. Admittedly Prosper had heard rumours of how skilled Jean was in more intimate actions, and of how willingly he acted upon them.

Jean tugged himself faster, letting one hand trail up to his chest and pull at a nipple as he felt his lips brush the base of Prosper's cock. He swallowed around the intrusion, letting Prosper take small thrusts into his open jaw. He huffed as Jean took the small abuses easily, his mouth hanging wide and wet, moaning as he pulled on his own cock between his legs, taking pleasure in giving pleasure. Maker he was sin personified. Jean slowly pulled back, gasping air into his lungs before engulfing the man once more.

Prosper felt his orgasm closing on him, he could feel his gut turning as Jean swallowed once more. He grasped at Jean's scalp, his thrusts becoming harsher and more brutal as his orgasm approached. Jean grunted at the new found pace, as his throat was roughly forced into, he could feel his throat constricting and his lungs aching as Prosper continued. He slapped at the man's hips, muffled curses spilling from his mouth as Prosper clutched his head to his manhood and came down his throat. He pulled back harshly as the Duke let him go, coughing and hacking lungfulls of air down his throat.

Prosper stood on shaking legs and tucked himself away. Tying up his breeches he spared a nod to Jean before leaving the man still hard and heaving loudly. Jean stood from where he knelt on the floor and staggered over to the bed. He fell backwards onto it, the mattress curling around him and he lay there. He let his hand trail over his cock, and up his chest. Sighing he left his cock to fall limp, rubbing at his eyes as he made to redress.

"Never again," He whispered stepping into his underthings and tying them, " _Never._ " Jean narrowly avoided one of the Coutier sons, the eldest of four, who trailed a hand over his arm as he passed.

"Looking for someone, Esmeral?" He smiled, hand loosely clasped in Jean's.

"Not particularly, the paintings down here are memorable." He awkwardly coughed to hide the rasp in his voice.

"You dislike them? Perhaps I could give you a better tour. The bedrooms often hold masterpieces."

"That would be divine. Lead the way." He smiled as the oldest brother lead him down the hallways, a grin on his face, as they disappeared into a different room. _Prosper be damned_ , Jean was going to have a nice night to spite him.

**Author's Note:**

> I remember reading that people used to think (like hundreds of years ago) that in order for women to become pregnant they needed to have an orgasm. So I applied this to Thedas, since,,, y'know,,,,,,,, why not,,,,,,


End file.
